Conan: Prisoner
by LadyElla2199
Summary: Something of a different fan writing using Conan and Tamara. A one off piece, though, I could be persuaded to continue it. Conan finds himself kidnapped and at the mercy of a widowed Tamara. She has to have a child to ensure her step-brother does not hurt her mother. Sexual references and adult situations.


"So now you know," Tamara said dejectedly, having finished telling Mildred the whole sordid tale of her husband's untimely death in their bedchamber and the man who had been found by her stepbrother to take her husband's place. "Johan meant it, stated it plainly this time. Either I get myself with child by this….stranger and pass it off as my late husband's or he will kill my mother."

"And he meant every single word of it. He is the devil himself, that one." Mildred sighed, "I suppose you must see it done then."

Tamara wrung her hands. "I know…but how?"

Mildred's eye's flared, then closed briefly, before opening again. "Your husband would have taken what he wanted, with you having nothing to do but lie there. But now you have to do it all on your own, and that man in there will not be able to guide you, with a gag in his mouth. And he is on his back you say?"

"Flat on his back, and I doubt he can move at all, the chains are so tight."

Mildred sighed again, "I am trying to see it in my mind; I have never ridden a man in such a way…."

"Johan must think it will not be difficult, for he has left him bound so."

"I did not say it could not be done."

This was not a subject for her mistress, Mildred would have expected such talk from the lasses in the kitchen. No doubt that wretch De Gaer would be back at dawn and carry out his threat if Tamara did not comply with his demands.

Mildred took Tamara's hands and gently squeezed them, "Listen carefully to what I tell you. You must straddle his hips, take his flesh into your body, and then you ride it. There will be some pain at first until your maidenhead breaks. Just imagine yourself astride a horse. You bounce - do not blush - you will likely adjust to this method as soon as you are seated. Just remember, his flesh needs the movement to give up its seed, and you must provide that moment if he cannot. Just sitting on him once he is fully sheathed within you will not do it. Do you think you can do it now? Is there anything else that needs explaining?"

"No….no."

Mildred hugged her then. "I wish I could offer up other advice for you, easier to digest, were he not a stranger and to remain a stranger. Just remember that is all he is, that you will never have to see him again once you are with child."

Conan's eyes were on her from the moment she opened the door, and he watched her approach the bedside. His anger intensified, a spark lit his green eyes as he wondered why he had been captured.

She dropped her gaze, not wanting to make eye contact as she explained to him the horrid facts to him, "I must have a child, and it must be conceived immediately. You were chosen because your hair and eyes are the same as my husband's, for the child needs to have a look of him. So we must…" Tamara struggled to utter the next word, "…copulate this night and the next, and the next, until I am with child. I do not like this any more than you, but I have no choice and neither do you."

His chains rattled, but she would not look towards those expressive eyes of his. Briskly, she took hold of the thick sheet covering him and flipped it to the end of the bed, where it slithered to the floor. She did not watch it fall. With a will of their own, her eyes were drawn down to his manhood, and widened to their full roundness. There, truly, was the monstrous weapon she had heard tales of. It lay soft and still in a bed of dark curls.

A growl came from Conan's throat, making her start, her eyes flying up to his face. Expressive eyes he had, so expressive, and now they promised grim retribution if she did not desist. Tamara took a step back, suddenly afraid. So much fury in a single expression.

"I am sorry you object, but it changes nothing," she said now, her tone dripped with bitterness. "I still must do it. But I will be quick about it so you are not disturbed for long."

His eyes flared at her, as if she had said something incredibly stupid. Tamara wished she could not read his thoughts so clearly. Wished he would make it easier for her, but why should he? He must feel as misused as she did. Well, she refused to look at him anymore. And she would get this done and over with.

Tamara climbed up on the edge of the bed, but it suddenly shook so forcefully, she tumbled backward to land on the floor. She stared up at the timbered ceiling, the breath knocked out of her, wondering what had happened. But then she heard the chains settling down to silence and knew, and it was then she got mad.

Tamara wanted to shout at him, but all she did was get back on her feet and glare down at him. "I WILL copulate with you. Do you understand? I have to!"

She got back on the bed, ready for his violent thrashing this time, but less prepared to actually watch it. He was violent, and the power behind his bucking and twisting and writhing was terrifying to behold. Conan's muscled body strained beyond limits, it seemed to grow in size. The entire bed bounced and moved across the floor. She lost her balance again, started to topple, but bent toward him just in time, so that she was thrown across his loins instead of the floor.

Conan stilled instantly. Tamara worried then she might have hurt him, and lifted herself up to look under her. But his cock still looked the same, so she could not tell if her belly had harmed it or not. But from that position she saw the blood coating his ankles. She glanced at his hands, and there, too, blood smeared over his wrists.

Tamara hissed through her teeth at the evidence of his violence. "You stupid man. Why cause yourself pain over something you cannot prevent?"

He answered with another growl. But while he was still motionless Tamara swiftly threw her leg over his hips to straddle them and gave him a triumphant look. If he was going to buck now, it would be to her advantage. But he did not. He just watched her with murder in his green eyes.

Conan had never been so furious in his entire life. She meant to steal a child from him, HIS child! If she succeeded, he would escape these bonds and take his revenge upon her and those who had helped capture him. What she intended enraged him, but it also left him cold.

He watched her as she lifted her shift just enough to bare her warmth and settle it against his loins. Perversely, it enraged him even more that she did not even intend to remove her clothes. She could steal his child, but she would not show him her nakedness in her quest. Soon, he thought, she would find out that this whole idea was doomed to fail. To that end, he closed his eyes at the look of her, which was very pleasing to the eye. Conan fed on his anger. He seethed with it, his only desire was to get his hands on her so he could exact a revenge of his own.

Tamara did not just sit there atop of him and expect miracles. Conan could feel her fingers handling him in a way he had never been caressed by a woman. But when he became aware that she was trying to stuff his soft flesh inside her, his eyes opened incredulously . He saw hers were closed now. She was biting her lower lip in concentration; so deep in accomplishing her goal, her features were scrunched together. He flinched when one of her nails poked him, but he realized she was not even aware she had done it.

He wondered how long she would continue to attempt the impossible. It didn't take long and she finally released a sob of frustration, and without meeting his eyes again, she gave up her seat and fled the chamber in defeat.

Conan felt such fierce satisfaction to have thwarted her, had he not been gagged, he would have shouted it for all to hear. He had won and she had failed.

His victory was short lived as Tamara returned.

Conan had not thought she would. And now her face was red with embarrassment, but there was also a renewed look of determination, he felt the first stirring of warmness, and rightly so. Tamara slowly shrugged off her bed robe and let it drop to the floor. When she reached for the hem of her shift, Conan closed his eyes tight.

Tamara's voice came softly to him. "You can fight me, but I have been told it will do you no good."

He would not have answered if he had the ability to do so, but he would like to cut the throat of whoever it was had given her the courage to try again.

"You must have realised that I am a virgin."

Had he been paying proper attention Conan would have picked up on it, but the word had the desired affect on him, even though he did not believe the words that came out of her mouth. Tamara's hand traced a slow path down his chest to his belly. He thought his rage would distract him, but her voice did that instead.

"In my ignorance I did not know you were not ready for me….that you needed encouragement of a certain kind. I did not even know that this part of you would change and grow into a hardness like the rest of you." She touched him, there, as she said it. "I find it difficult to believe, for it is already large, yet I am told this is what happens. So, I am eager to see this strange happening for myself."

Did she know that what she was saying was as simulating as her touch? Sweat broke out on his brow. He would not succumb to this seduction.

"I am to kiss you and…..lick you, everywhere. And even as a last resort….there."

Conan's body was already responding. His mind screamed his rage, but his cock was a betrayer of the worst sort, with a mind of its own, tantalised by her promise. He strained at his bonds. He went wild , trying to dislodge her hand. But she stood by the beside the bed, undisturbed by his thrashing, and her fingers closed around him, holding on tight. He stilled as it dawned on him that his movements were aiding her.

"I would not have believed it if I did not see it with my own eyes," she gasped.

There was awe in her voice. And she was petting him now, giving his cock praise for obeying her instead of him. She did not even know he had not even reached his full size, that he still fought with every fibre of his being.

"I suppose now I do not need to kiss you."

Was that disappointment in her voice?

By the Gods, he could not stand much more. What he had thought impossible was not. She could have what she wanted if she continued and he had no hope that she would not continue.

When Tamara climbed onto the bed, he thrashed again, but she grabbed hold of his hips and hung on. And he could feel her nakedness now as she hugged him, her breasts pressing against his skin, nearly at his groin. This, too, aided her, forcing more blood to rush to that traitorous part of his body, he stilled again. Hoping he was not hard enough to penetrate her, praying she was telling the truth and she was indeed a virgin so she would not know the difference and would still fail.

Tamara crawled up him, still holding on tightly in case he tried to throw her off again. Conan groaned at this further stimulation. And then she was seated, and he was hard enough that she only had to nudge him in the right direction.

Heat….scalding heat and moisture. Why could she not be dry? Why could she not?

Her whimper went through him like a lance even as he felt the cause of it. She was still trying to seat herself fully, but her maidenhead would not give, and she was progressing too slowly to do anything but cause herself pain. Conan felt a savage pleasure in that. So she WAS a virgin, and her own pain would defeat her where he could not.

To move now would truly help her, so Conan remained still. Yet Tamara was so small and exquisitely tight, the urge was there, to thrust deep into her. He killed that thought quickly, he could not control his cock, but he still controlled the rest of his body.

Conan heard another whimper, louder, and he opened his eyes to feed on her pain. Tears streaked her smooth cheeks. Her eyes, glassy with wetness, reflected that pain.

The spread of her hips over him, her splendid breasts bouncing with her soft panting, the feel of hot wetness squeezing only half of him inside….It was his undoing. Conan did not thrust, he had no need to. The blood rushed to swell his cock to its full throbbing length, which pushed right through her maidenhead without either of them moving to help it.

Tamara cried out as it happened, and her weight carried her down to sheathe him fully in her depths. Conan ground his teeth against the gag in his mouth, His muscles strained, but he remained still otherwise. He fought now for impotence. He fought to ignore the powerful urges of his body. It was torture. He had never resisted anything so hard, never wanted anything so much that was so opposed to his will.

She moved on him, hesitantly at first, clumsily. Tamara was still hurting, but still determined. Her breath which was coming so hard, fanned his belly along with her hair, providing another caress, another torture. And he knew exactly when he lost the fight. He tried one last time to throw her off, welcoming the pain in his ankles and wrists, but she knew, and held fast to him. And then he no longer cared, was mindless in the throes of primal instinct, which took over completely to drain his seed with explosive, unbelievable relief.

Damn her, damn her!

"I am glad it was you….."


End file.
